The Nighthouse [members / party crashers]

Glancing over at Joram, Lucius sighed, setting down his empty shot. "Another. Please." He arched a brow at the Hufflepuff's energy, and a light laugh escaped his lips. When was the last time he had laughed? "Secret password? Do tell." During Rod's speech, Lucius eyed the dueling table, thinking he'd might give that a try. Lucius was very confident in his dueling skills, and was certain he could best just about all these drunken fools. Then again, if Lucius kept drinking at the rate he was going, he wouldn't be able to stand by the end of the night, much less cast a competent spell.

Lucius rolled his eyes at Zeke's remark. Yeah, like he'd never heard that one before. For whatever, inexplicable reason, people assumed that just because he didn't drink himself to oblivion at parties and didn't grab the arses of every girl in sight, that Lucius was some kind of dainty dandelion swaying in the breeze. Well, Zeke could think what he liked, along with the rest of them. Truthfully, Lucius was above the drama these Slytherins loved to get entangled with so often. Someone had to be mature around here, after all. In spite of Zeke's zinger though, Lucius had a feeling he wasn't the one in Zeke's crosshairs. He cast a glance toward Rod, wondering why Zeke had been so... aggressive? That certainly struck Lucius as odd, but he doubted Rod had even noticed. Rod was too drunk on his own ego to notice much of anything. Plus, Lucius had always thought he was a bit of a dolt, anyway.

Turning toward Atlanta, Lucius shrugged his shoulders. "I apologize for Zeke here. Apparently manners are becoming a thing of myth." He offered a weak smile and added calmly, "I don't believe we've met. Lucius Malfoy. Your name's Atlanta, right?" Hopefully Zeke's comments hadn't hurt her feelings too much. Then again, why should surly, self-involved Lucius give a rat's ass? When Zeke leaned in and whispered something inaudible, he watched as Atlanta laughed in response. He furrowed his brow, confused. Lucius realized he would have to stop pretending that he knew anything at all about girls.

The brooding Slytherin watched as Rod pulled Integra onto the dance floor - without her permission, he noted . And Jacen had practically pounced on the attractive Gryffindor that had just waltzed in. Lucius really wasn't the romantic sort, but he couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit jealous as the students partnered off. Honestly, he couldn't remember the last romantic entanglement he'd had, sexual, emotional, or otherwise. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He'd had a recent encouter with Raven Monroe's scintillating, naked body. That was a memory he'd treasure for a lifetime, no doubt. In any case, he could take a lesson from Rodolphus: a woman's body could cure anything.

So far this party seemed more like a "My Dick's Totally Bigger Than Your's" sort of party. Basically if you couldn't grab a handful of girl's and say you slept with every single one of them, then you lost. And just as she was about to give Joram a little ego stroke and praise him for his job well done, the Penis Gala blew wide open and came full swing. Zeke just had to open his big mouth to every other alpha male in the room. What did he find so threatening? Honestly half of her wanted to punch him in the face.

Surely Rodolphus was going to eat him alive for saying such ludicrous things. They were standing there in the middle of the dance floor. Why she had accepted dancing with him, Integra would never know, but Joram and himself were the only two she felt were worthy of her time, and Jorrie was all tied up at the bar. Placing her hands on Rodolphus' shoulder and the other in his hand, Integra tried to smile up at him. Her anger had subsided since their little encounter in the entrance hall and she was trying to look at him as though he were the older brother of her boyfriend.

Perhaps that's why her hand went to his arm as Zeke spat the myriad of slanderous words at him. "Rodolphus..." Men were going to be men and Integra could do nothing to prevent that but she did not want him to spoil all the fun before it had even started. Integra would not let him lose his temper and make a bigger mess of this. He needed to be the bigger man here. "Rod...He's not worth it."

Her big honey brown eyes looked up at him from a face that seemed half genuine. Trouble was definitely not something she wanted from all this. With a more hushed tone, she stayed close to him. "I'll take care of it." The genuine concern for him melted as a malevolent smile replaced it. "Just give me a little time. He'll get his just deserts by the end of the night, I promise." The words were quiet and for his ears only as she placed her hands back in place for their dance.


**I took a tiny bit of liberty here Allison, let me know if you want me to change it. I'm totally okay with changing it up. <3**

***Also I apologize for this post turning out to be absolute trash. LOL!***

Rod had thrown his heart, soul, and lifes-blood into the Nighthouse. In spite of what his little speech had implied, Rod had gone through all the planning, the waiting, the anxiety strictly for himself. If the people invited tonight had a great time, then that was just peachy. But the Nighthouse was how Rod could make love to his own ego. And also to remind every one that Rod could throw one hell of a party. In case anyone had forgotten. In the past, Rod had thrown some serious ragers. And always with the help of his fellow deviant Joram. However, time was running short. This was his last year at Hogwarts, after all. Soon enough, he'd have to grow up. Read the newspaper. Uphold conservative family values and drink hot tea. Or whatever it was grown-ups did.

He hoped desparately that the Nighthouse would live long and hard after he was gone. Tonight was supposed to be about flagrant disregard for the rulesl, sex, booze, and a few risks here and there.

But here was Zeke trying to piss on all the fun. Don't get Rodolphus wrong, he liked a good verbal spar as much as the next bloke. And if said verbal spar led to a few punches or hexes, then even better. But couldn't that wait till they were all schnockered? Rod could hardly feel a buzz, and he knew it'd be quite a few more drinks before the real Rodolphus came out to play. What was Maxi-pad getting his knickers in a twist for, anyway? Was it is bloody time of the month - no pun intended - or something? Whatever the reason, Rod felt the heat starting to rise to his face, his jaw clenched. "Maxi-pad," he begrudingly but silently thanked Bellatrix for teaching him that one, "do you intend on puffing out your chest and leading us through your mesmerizing and rare display of masculinity every time someone breathes, or simply when I speak?"

At Zeke's last comment though, Rod about lost his topper. Really, Rod wasn't one to lose his cool. He generally let things roll off his shoulders and was pretty good about flinging insults rather than hexes. However, Maxwell had just taken it too far for Rod's liking. He started to stride off the dance floor, in spite of himself, but a warm hand stopped him short. He glanced down at Integra, arching a brow in surprise. If there was anyone who would want to see a few punches thrown about, he would think it would be her. She was a chaos-junkie, after all. When she spoke though, her tone was that was rationale and calm. Rod felt himself relax at her touch, and then he smirked. "You'll teach him a lesson, eh? I have no doubt you will. Though I must admit, I'd like a front row seat to that one." It was times like this when he realized how much he admired that crafty, destructive mind of hers.

Glancing back at Zeke, he shot back, "I'd love to challenge you to a battle of wits, Maxwell, but it just doesn't seem right to attack someone who's unarmed." He shrugged his shoulders non-chalantly, and then turned his attention back to Integra. They were so close to each other, he could smell that poisonous scent she called perfume. He was just about to lean in and kiss her neck when a familiar and unwelcomed face came in through the door. His smirk was quickly replaced with a scowl when his blue-green eyes landed on his younger brother. Rabastan Lestrange.

However, despite his inner jealousy and loathing, he had to play the good, older brother. Immediately he pulled away from Integra, and shot a winning smile at Rabastan. He behaved as if no indiscretion had transpired between them, as if he hadn't slept with Integra, as if he hadn't tried to put the moves on her just a few minutes ago. "Glad to see you could make it," NOT. "Actually, you make a very good point, baby brother."

Rod turned toward Zeke and motioned his head toward the dueling platform. "Hey, Mawell. Still have some of up that pent-up, manly energy? Why not put it into a duel? Give the kids something fun to watch. Or put it into a game of blackjack, maybe?" He smiled that arrogant smile of his, wondering what Zeke would say in response to that.

Waverly had always despised this world, this world of luxury and glory that her spoiled sister so coveted. The formal attire. The drunken partying of entitled socialites and privileged, white males. Waverly had nothing against rule-breaking, of going against the grain. But these sorts of things were the pathetic, rebellious attempts of rich kids who had always had everything they wanted. What did they have to rebel against? It made her sick. It made her sick how ignorant and unaware these people were. How prejudiced and near-sighted they were. If there was one thing this Hufflepuff girl loved though, it was gambling and taking a risk. And Waverly couldn't wait to rob these rich pigs of their Galleons.

The lowly Hufflepuff girl hadn't been invited, of course. She was an anonymous, half-blooded nobody who was sisters with a Prefect. No way she was getting an invitation to such an exclusive event. It didn't matter that Waverly had the coin to pay the buy-in and the skill to beat all of them. The daughter of a Muggle man who harbored a love for card and board games, both Waverly and Siobhan had learned from a young age how to play a myriad of games. But these wankers could hardly care. It was amazing what a simple matter of blood-status could do to someone. Waverly knew she would have to get in another way. She'd thought about simply nicking some clueless Slytherin's invitation, but knew someone would eventually make the connection and kick her out. No doubt whilst taking all her money. That was why, Waverly had decided on another plan: a nice brew of Polyjuice Potion.

Waverly had never concocted the brew before. Even though she was an exemplary student, especially in Potions, she had to admit it had taken two tries before getting the mixture exactly right. She wasn't about to risk growing horns or sprouting wings, that was for damn sure. Many of the ingredients had been hard to come by, so she had had to filch through Professor Slughorn's stores late at night. The hardest part though, was deciding who to transform into. The guest list of this event was top-secret, but Waverly knew it would mostly be a Slytherin crowd. Therefore, she needed to be a Slytherin. Lucky for her then, that during a Divination assignment, she'd been paired with that Slytherin girl Integra Echoes. Waverly really didn't know anything about her, but when Integra was preoccupied scowling at her tea leaves, Waverly sneaked into her bag, and plucked a long, brown strand from her hairbrush. With that, her potion was complete.

She stood in front of her mirror now, standing in a too-short dress. Integra was quite a bit taller than Waverly, and she was having trouble finding something that fit. Not to mention, Waverly owned exactly one dress. Her dutiful roommate was fast asleep, as was the rest of Hufflepuff house, no doubt. A bunch of pencil-pushers. As she stared into her reflection - or rather, Integra's reflection - Waverly felt uneasy. It was so strange to be in someone else's skin, to have their face, their body. She forced a smile and it wasn't her smile. But someone else's, someone she didn't even know. It was a clever disguise, and Waverly could only hope that this Integra wouldn't be there. Or at least that no one would notice. After all, it would likely be pretty crazy in there.

When she finally arrived at the party, she took a deep breath. She didn't think she'd be so nervous. Awkwardly, she hovered by the entrance until a very large - and noisy - group of Slytherins came swaggering up to her. A boy in the group shot her a sleazy wink. "Oi, Echoes! Thought you'd be here tonight. Gonna give us a little show like at Rod's last party?" Waverly nodded stiffly, suddenly realizing that this Slytherin girl was probably not the best person to have chosen as her disguise. Regardless, the large group made it especially easy for her to sneak in quietly without being noticed or paying that ridiculous entrance fee. When she came in, the party was in full swing. The place was packed! Hopefully, no one would suspect her in this crowd. She scanned the room, waiting to see if her look-alike was in the crowd. Blast. She most certainly was. However, she had her arms draped around that Lestrange and seemed preoccupied. Waverly had every intention of staying at the poker table anyway. Speaking of, Waverly stepped right on over there and wordlessly took a seat on the other side of Rabastan.

Before Lucius could even respond, Atlanta was being dragged at the hip by none other than Zeke Maxwell. "Yeah, we weren't in the middle of a conversation or anything. Thanks for asking. Just drag her away. Have a lovely dance together," he muttered to himself, though the pair had long since departed. Staring down into his drinks, Lucius could feel the boredom beginning to set. Why had he decided to come here in the first place? He'd reminded himself why earlier, but now he could scarcely remember. Oh right, to reconnect with his old, heinous self, feel alive and all that hogwash. It seemed silly to him now, and he was all but prepared to finish the drink in his hand and depart.

Suddenly then, a soft hand was lifting his chin, and he was staring into the eyes of some Hufflepuff girl. He blinked, his stare completely blank. "Uh..." he finally managed, but then she was standing on her tip-toes, thrusting her lips and body against his. So surprised he was that he did not return the embrace, simply held his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do. What was the polite response when a girl you knew nothing about planted her lips on you? He was taken aback as to how bold she was. There had been no hesitation in her stride, just pure determination. His eyes were open the entire time, feeling her hands curl within his blonde hair. Then, just as sudden as she had appeared, she pulled away, dashing off to another part of the room. Waving his hand abstractedly he replied uncertainly, "Yeah, you're welcome." He had been to quite a few of Rod's insane parties, and something like that certainly had never happened before.

Turning toward Joram, he began pouring another shot. He didn't turn to look back, but he could hear the insults being tossed like a Frisbee between Rod and Zeke. What a bunch of brainless children. He looked up at the Hufflepuff, noting that the two of them had never really had much in the way of conversation. Sure, they'd seen each other around as Lucius was always invited to Rod's affairs and Lucius usually attended. Bored and trying to find a reason to keep him there at the Nighthouse, he nodded a greeting to Joram. "How's it feel staying behind the bar while every one else has a good time?" Lucius frowned. Why did everything that came out of his mouth sound so damn pessimistic?